


Mission Impossible

by guardianoffun



Series: mostly cute Morse stuff [4]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-16 03:35:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19309813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianoffun/pseuds/guardianoffun
Summary: The objective; get Morse to take a goddamn nap for once in his life. Peter has to be a little bit sneaky if he's going to get Morse into bed for this one.





	Mission Impossible

**Author's Note:**

> it's me!! again!! jarse this time lol this one is inspired by  this post  cos I was like damn, Jakes would probably have to seduce Morse into bed before he'd go to sleep lol, so here's Jakes being sneaky to convince Morse to go to bed at a reasonable hour.

Peter Jakes has been known, on occasion to play dirty. Usually it’s during pub quizzes, where he’s not averse to casually leaning backwards to glance at DeBryn’s answer sheet when they’ve not got Morse on the nick’s team. It was just one of those things about the world, sometimes you have to be a little sneaky if you want things to turn out right. It was almost like going undercover in a way.

Tonight’s target; one E. Morse. The mission; to get the flaming idiot in bed sometime before two in the morning. He couldn’t be entirely blamed, both Thursday and Morse had run themselves a little ragged this past week, a particularly troubling case having them up and about at all hours. Not that Morse had the best sleeping habits normally, but he had been looking particularly drained that morning. Thursday’s offer of the afternoon off had been waved off much to Jakes’ disapproval, so the least Morse could do now was sleep properly.

You see, Morse actually enjoyed sleeping, when he got around to it. Jakes would know, having stood in for either pillow or blanket on many occasions. Morse would nearly always end up on his front, happily hugging the mattress until he had to be pulled out of bed. The trouble was quite often getting him into it in the first place.

Jakes would suggest they retire for the night, he himself ready for his full eight hours, but Morse always had one more clue to puzzle out, or aria to listen to, or he just wanted to brood a while longer.

Tonight, he had decided it was just one more drink, poured as Jakes stretched and went to put his own glass in the sink.

“You sure you don’t wanna come to bed?” He asked, a plan already forming. He let some of his usual cocky swagger back into his walk as he wandered over to Morse’s armchair.

Morse’s eyebrows raised, a little, and then he pointed to the now empty bottle.

“Would be rude to have left one glass worth’s in it.”  

Jakes shrugged, hands going to his collar, and he began undressing right there in the living room. He gave Morse what he knew to be his most shit-eating of grins, and dropped unbuttoned his shirt all the way, leaving it hanging off his shoulders like some temptuos murder-mystery movie widow.  

Morse eyed him curiously but didn’t seem convinced. Inwardly, Jakes sighed. Time to up the ante. With no warning, he threw himself at Morse, long legs straddling his, and arms looping around his neck. Perhaps not his smartest move, he didn’t fit as well as he could have had he not been nearly six foot tall; but it worked, sort of. Morse put his drink down at least.

“Peter, uh,” he stared at Peter’s chest, which was about two inches from his face and obscured most everything else. “What?”

“I want you to come to bed, Morse.” He said shimmying his hips a little. Morse huffed put a laugh, and Peter wasn’t sure if it had worked, until he felt a fingers slowly make their way up his chest. Morse’s hand came to rest above his heart.

“Alright then.”

Peter grinned. Target acquired.

Extracting himself from Morse’s lap with some small amount of grace, he offered his hand to Morse. That was when the mission took a surprise turn, and Morse decided it was time to launch himself at Jakes, diving in for a kiss that would have a Bond girl swooning. The sudden thought of Morse in a tight suit, martini in hand very nearly distracted Peter from his mission, as did Morse’s hand as it clamped around his ass.

Peter had to remain strong. But he might as well let Morse finish the kiss, it was only polite. When Morse eventually broke for air, they both swayed a bit, more than a little dazed. Then Peter gave Morse a gentle nudge.

“Bed?” Morse nodded, then grabbed the hem of Peter’s shirt and dragged him to the bedroom. Kicking open the door, he spun Peter till he had his back to the bed, and then none too gently shoved him onto the bed.

He clambered on top of Peter, snatching another kiss. Peter was very tempted to throw his mission out of the window there and then, but when Morse pulled back, he could see the dark circles around his eyes, and the next kisses he peppered along Peter’s jaw were slow and messy, not his usual style. Morse was  _ exhausted. _

Pulling back, Peter made sure to catch Morse’s eye, and in a move that wasn’t entirely staged, yawned. Morse couldn’t help but yawn back, and with that Peter was one step closer to success. He lifted a hand and caught Morse’s cheek, running a thumb across his cheekbone.

“You know what Morse, I’m shattered,” he said, unable to stop another yawn. Damn, he’d fallen foul of his own tricks. “Looks like you are too.”

Morse pouted, and Peter took the opportunity to trace across his lip instead.

“Peter,” Morse grumbled, but there wasn’t a lot of force in it. “I thought we were…” he trailed off as he attempted to catch Peter’s thumb between his teeth. With a small chuckle, Peter reached up to poke at Morse’s nose.

“I just said we should head to bed, never mentioned what I wanted to do once we were in it.” Morse sighed, and his head dropped onto Peter’s chest.

“You’re insufferable,” he said, at least, that’s what Peter thought he said; it had come out a little muffled. Peter let a hand come up to cup the back of Morse’s head, and let his fingers trail through his hair.

“You love me for it,” he replied, tiredness seeping into his own voice. Morse barely managed to respond, a sort of humming noise emanated  from him that might have been agreement. They lay for a while, limbs tangled, as their breathing slowed. Peter felt his eyes droop, and it was only the feel of Morse’s belt buckle pressing into his hip that made him move. He gave Morse a short prod in the ribs.

“Hey, you think we should maybe get undressed or something?” He said, but Morse didn’t move. He prodded again.

“Oi, Morse.” Still nothing. Silence. Peter wriggled, shifting Morse enough so he could peer at his face. Eyes closed, breathing slow, there was no doubt about it. Morse was fast asleep.

Grinning, Peter settled for sleeping in his shirt and trousers, at least until Morse rolled off him and he could slip out and change. He let his eyes close, and his arms wrapped around Morse.

Mission accomplished.

**Author's Note:**

> i like to think if Peter had given in, Morse would have like, unbuttoned his trousers and then like, have fallen asleep before he could do anything else anyways lol our man is TIRED i hope u all enjoyed this!! <3


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